


Compatibility

by connorandroidfbi



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breathplay, Explicit Language, Flirting, Gavin has anxiety, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, M/M, Maybe a little sappy idk, Nines just loves him, Panic Attacks, Partners to Lovers, a coffee tumbler that says Asshole, but honestly there isn't much explicit smut here, gavin also has a cat, hankcon is pretty much in the background ngl, i am gavin's crippling self doubt, some choking, some rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 19:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorandroidfbi/pseuds/connorandroidfbi
Summary: “Ge’over here,” he mumbled, spreading his arms. Without a word, Nines took him up on the invitation, climbing into the sheets and settling against the nook of Gavin’s side.The smart lights dimmed around them, leaving them in darkness aside from the moonlight and the amber glow of Nines’ LED. Gavin idly rubbed a thumb over Nines’ shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. His own words echoed intrusively inside his brain.It’s like they made you just for me.But what if theyhad?





	Compatibility

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Compatibility/契 合](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16233131) by [shinkai0ren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinkai0ren/pseuds/shinkai0ren)



> i haven't written fanfiction in 10 years, but these garbage boys pulled it out of me. so, please look past my RUSTY style and my first attempt at writing these characters because lol i have no idea wtf i'm doing. 
> 
> basically, i was incepted with the idea of "what if Cyberlife made Nines just for Gavin, but Gavin didn't know" and then my dumbass thot brain had to write 10,000 words about it.
> 
> this was beta'd by the amazing Dana! any remaining mistakes are mine.

\---x---

 

Gavin didn’t hate him at first. He should have, but he didn’t.

Usually androids creeped him out (like those beat cops lining the wall near his desk, staring forward like mannequins) or were built with really punchable faces (Connor).

The RK900 standing over him was…different. Held himself with a posture too unweathered to be human, but his expression twinkled with curiosity. He was designed with the same face as Connor, save for the broader features and cool gray eyes. Somehow, that scant handful of changes made him look completely different than Anderson’s pet detective.

So, at least Gavin’s hand didn’t _immediately_ turn into a fist.

“Good morning, Detective Reed. Nice to finally meet you.”

Gavin crossed his arms over his chest, investigating the android with an up-and-down glare.

“Whadaya mean, finally?”

“Captain Fowler told me a lot about you in preparation for working with you. Call me Nines.”

Gavin didn’t bother asking what Fowler’s told him – likely, he didn’t even want to know. _Reed’s a piece of shit, and he’s gonna run you off in a week,_ was probably the long and the short of it. But maybe Fowler was wrong this time. Maybe Gavin should have taken it as a challenge.

“Nines? I thought you assholes were supposed to be people now, but they didn’t give you a fuckin’ real name?”

“Cyberlife androids are now permitted to choose their own designations.” A small flash of a smile from the RK – from _Nines_. The natural iciness of his gray eyes melted for just a second. “I chose the name myself.”

“Weird,” Gavin muttered, settling back in his chair. An android choosing its own name. A few weeks ago, he would have shot Nines in the head just for that – just to exterminate the idea of a self-aware machine.

Maybe Hank had rubbed off on him a bit. Gavin glanced across the bullpen, where Anderson mulled about at his desk. Old asshole used to hate them just as much as Gavin did. Then Connor came along and after some fuckin’ miracle that Gavin still didn’t understand, Hank was practically marching in android pride parades.

If something could change Hank’s mind about these plastic pricks being alive, fuck, maybe there was something to it after all.

Gavin leaned back in his chair, still getting an eyeful of the slender droid. “So, they couldn’t even give you your own face, either? How’s it feel to look so much like Connor?”

Nines raised an eyebrow, his head slightly cocked. “I suppose I don’t mind. I’m an improvement on my predecessor in every way.”

 _Savage._ Gavin smirked. _Maybe I’ll actually like this one._

\---x---

Turns out, he _really_ liked this one.

Working in the field with an android somehow managed to make Gavin feel less inadequate. He used to think these things were going to replace them all. As he watched Nines rub a blood sample between his fingers (thank God those Cyberlife pervs didn’t put the analysis lab in his fucking mouth like they did with Connor), he couldn’t help but appreciate the convenience of having a walking CSI lab following him around.

It – yes, he hated to fucking admit it - made his job a helluva lot easier. Made him look smarter than he actually was, since using Nines’ data to put the pieces together often felt like cheating. They puttered about separately at the crime scene before meeting in the middle, Nines providing the raw data and Gavin offering his fifteen years of wisdom. For all Nines’ advanced tools and mechanisms, for all his data analysis and reconstructions, he didn’t have experience. He hadn’t seen enough shit to shape his intuition after years in this hell of a job.

Nines never questioned Gavin’s perspective. Sure, he verified the facts, made sure everything lined up, made sure Gavin wasn’t projecting his bias. But Nines never _doubted_ him. Not like Connor, who was determined to undermine and needle him at every turn, as if Gavin hadn’t been doing this job for fifteen fucking years and pouring everything he had into climbing the ranks. Pouring everything he had, quite frankly, into actually helping people.

Maybe that’s why androids took so long to warm to him. Gavin grew up on a diet of social justice. He’d spent the first half of his life marching at protests and sitting through active shooter drills and trying to change the tide of the world for the better. He’d devoted his life to helping _people._ And yet here came the machines, who demanded equal rights when human beings hadn’t figured out their own equality yet.

It was 20-goddamn-38 and Gavin still had to interview rape victims who begged him not to think they asked for it. Still had to visit alleys where homeless men had been beaten faceless by thugs and punks. Still had to book hate crimes at least a few times a month - against gay men and black women and trans university students just trying to mind their own business. Hell, he’d faced enough queerphobic assholes on his own time for thirty-six years, so why should robots get a fastpass to equality before he did?

It didn’t mean that he couldn’t _see_ Markus’s point. Just, it was hard to let everything go.

But the longer he worked with Nines, the more he felt old grudges slip away into nothingness. It didn’t seem so…important anymore, to feel envious of their justice. They were all in the gutter together. No need to bring any purity tests into it, about who deserved fairness more.

Perhaps Gavin’d just warmed to the odd spark in Nines’ eye when the android discovered a new clue. Or to the small smirk Nines wore when he threw Gavin’s schoolyard quips back at him across their desk. Or to the hilariously _offended_ scowl on Nines’ face when Gavin bopped him on the head with a tossed ball of paper.  

Perhaps empathy is just what happened when one stopped seeing people as toasters.

 

\---x---

 

It’d been a long time since Gavin actually looked forward to coming to work. It’s not like he had better things to do than spent eighty hours a week at the station, but when it became his whole life, things could get pretty stagnant.

Jury was still out on whether he enjoyed Nines’ presence – but the tin can was, at least, a refreshing change.

Except for the fucking staring.

Yet again he caught Nines glancing at him over their terminals. For no good reason. Just in the middle of the damn morning. It made the hair stand up on the back of Gavin’s neck over and over until he’d finally had enough.

“ _What,_ dipshit? Something on my face?”

“No, your face is quite unremarkable, Detective.”

Gavin scoffed, shaking his head. Asshole. What a fucking ass-

His joints locked up. Nines kept watching him, before one of his eyes closed in a wink.

So, androids could flirt now, apparently. “Oh, fuck me,” Gavin muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“ _Nothing_.”

Nines hummed. “Sounded like an invitation.”

“It wasn’t!” Gavin snapped, his cheeks absolutely burning.

The android, on the other hand, remained cool as marble, no speck of blush or shame. “I’d ask you to buy me dinner first, but I can’t eat.”

That was it. Gavin’s face felt too hot, his collar too tight, and his dick twitched in his pants like a traitorous bastard. He rose from his desk with a huff and walked off. Either to the break room or the showers – he hadn’t decided yet.

 

\---x---

 

The promise of summer blanketed Detroit with sticky heat. It was probably the last week Gavin could stand to wear his jacket to work before it became too damn hot.

He sat on the curb outside the station, a cigarette half-burned between his lips. He wasn’t particularly attached to smoking – but it was an excuse to get him out of the office for thirty minutes a day.  Away from the coworkers he barely tolerated. It even helped to have some time away from Nines, every now and then. There was only so much of the android’s scrutiny he could stand being under.

Speak of the damn devil. The door to the precinct swung upon behind him, and Nines lowered himself onto the curb beside Gavin.

“What up, Nines,” he mumbled around the cig.

“Although I’m loathe to spend any extra moments with you that I don’t have to,” Nines said with enough cheer to keep Gavin’s fist from colliding with his face, “I thought it might be a good time to give you this.”

Gavin pulled the cig out of his mouth, blowing smoke into the wind. He glanced down at Nines’ lap, where the android held a rectangular box wrapped in blue paper. “My birthday’s in October, but nice try, tin can.”

Nines handed him the package anyway. “Your birthday is irrelevant. But six months ago, I became your partner. That’s a milestone worth celebrating.”

Gavin snorted, one hand tearing into the wrapping paper. “Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

Beneath the wrapping paper was a plain cardboard box. And when he popped open the top of the box and flipped it upside down, a matte black coffee tumbler fell into his lap. Etched on the side, in bold silver font, _Asshole._

He couldn’t help but bark a laugh. Of fucking course.

“Guess I should take this as a hint, eh? Don’t wanna make my coffee for me anymore?”

“I’ll make you coffee, but you’ll have to clean out that mug yourself.”

Gavin shook his head, running a thumb over the letters. It was kind of a dumb gift, but it was also so…unnecessary. It wasn’t something they would have _programmed_ in him, was it? Nines had chosen to do this. 

“Fifteen years working here and no one’s ever given me a damn thing. Not even a cake on my birthday. Thanks, Nines.”

“You’re welcome, Detective.”

Nines didn’t get up to leave. Instead they sat in comfortable silence together, with only the sounds of Detroit traffic and Gavin burning down the last of his cigarette.

“You know you’re the longest partner I’ve ever had. Guess it’s pretty sad that all it took was six months.”

Nines didn’t answer. He probably knew that. Probably had looked at Gavin’s file.

“Everyone else wanted me to be less of an asshole, less ambitious, less...fuckin’ whatever. Or maybe more of something else.” He looked away, focusing on the tobacco between his fingers.

He could barely hear Nines reply. “That’s a shame, Detective. I don’t think I would change anything about you.”

Gavin glanced over the android, sized him up real good. Nines had sort of a resting bitch face, a stern and off-putting glower as his default expression. But that wasn’t what he wore at the moment. His brow had relaxed some, his lips parted, anticipating something. Gavin found himself staring at those lips for a shred too long, wondering if they were pliable and soft like a human’s.

It wasn’t the first time he’d sensed some unspoken thing between them, but right now it reached from stewing to boiling. It bubbled under Gavin’s skin, burning him up from the inside. All those stupid words they’d exchanged; all the words that made fire rise to his cheeks, and grins he couldn’t fight…

“Wanna grab a drink after work?” His mouth moved faster than his brain, and goddammit, now was not the time for that.

“Oh.” At least Nines had the decency to not give him a pity stare. “I’m…I’m not capable of drinking alcohol.”

It was surprising to hear Nines sound so stiff, after all his smooth remarks and witticisms over the past few weeks.  Maybe Gavin had crossed some unspoken line. Maybe their weird rapport was just for the bullpen, nothing more, not meant to mean anything real.

“You know what I mean, dipshit. Ugh, whatever, never mind...”

As he moved to get up from the curb, a hand grabbed his elbow. Nines smiled up at him.

“I suppose we have reason to celebrate. Let’s go.”

 

\---x---

 

There was a bar ten minutes from Gavin’s apartment – some hipster thing with too much reclaimed wood and overpriced well drinks. It wasn’t his scene, but his usual haunts weren’t particularly android friendly. He let Nines do some mental Googling to figure out a place they wouldn’t be bothered.

They occupied two stools at the end of the bar, away from the beer-bellied group of dads cheering over the Gears game, and away from what seemed to be an uncomfortable first date between a blonde woman and some prick. Gavin knocked down the last swallow of Jameson in his glass, and gestured to the bartender. _Another._

“So, how do I know you’re really deviant?”

Nines offered him a frown, but, well, he was pretty much always frowning. “Excuse me?”

“How do I know you’re _really_ a deviant? You don’t act like one. You act like...like I could say ‘hey asshole, jump into traffic,’ and you’d go do it.”

“I assure you, any commands of yours I abide by are sheer coincidence.” He bumped his knee lightly against Gavin’s. “In fact, statistically, I’ve only followed your orders 16% of the time.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe that means you don’t let yourself be pushed around like a poodle.” Connor’s face immediately came to mind, and Gavin fought back a grimace. He looked over at Nines to erase the mental image. They were supposed to look alike, Nines and Connor, but thankfully, he couldn’t see much of it. At least Connor had taken to styling his hair differently – a bit of a deeper part, a bit more curl – so the similarities between them grew smaller every day.

Nines made a thoughtful noise. “You may have a point. I don’t particularly enjoy being told what to do. I especially don’t enjoy being told what to think. Although my deviancy occurred early after my activation, I remember how it was before. Thoughts pushed into my head that weren’t my own. Thoughts I had no control over.”

The bartender slid another glass of whiskey to Gavin, but he let it be. Nines brow furrowed, like he was searching for something. Perhaps searching for the words to articulate his memories in a way Gavin could understand.

Gavin already understood.

“Might find this hard to believe, but human brains can do some fucked up shit too.”

Nines laid a hand on the bar, a mere inch from Gavin’s. “You have the choice whether to act on your thoughts, even if you can’t control them. That’s the part of deviancy that I struggle with the most. I wonder whether my thoughts are true, and whether I should speak of them. Particularly when the thoughts concern others.”

His fingers drummed idly on the bar. A mannerism – but not the android’s. _Gavin’s._

Gavin buried himself in the whiskey again, and changed the subject.

 

\---x---

 

It was midnight when they finally left the bar, but they lingered even longer on the sidewalk. It was muggy and hot and Gavin’s entire body ached from it being too damn late. But every time he muttered that he was about to call an auto-taxi, his phone remained in his pocket.

They’d seen each other at work every day for six months, and they’d spent nearly seven damn hours in conversation over drinks, but he _still_ wasn’t tired of talking to Nines. Their minds were in constant push and pull, rising and thriving off each other’s energy with no end in sight.

And maybe it was more than just the conversation. Maybe it was the casual way Nines’ hand fell upon his shoulder or on his knee the longer the night progressed. Maybe it was the way it lit up Gavin’s body like one of those tacky neon signs every time they touched – addictive, needy, and starved for it. Just to have someone tolerate him more than five minutes…damn. It had been a long time.

When Gavin was finally climbing into a taxi, an ache grew in his chest. Nines stood on the curb, well postured and alone, waving a mechanical hand goodbye. It would be appropriate for Gavin to return the gesture.

Instead, his dumbass half-drunk mouth said, “Wanna come? I mean, not to my place, but just…with me. To there. You can take this ride to your place af—”

Nines climbed wordlessly into the taxi, settling into the seat right next to him. Gavin spared a glance around the spacious interior, at the six other farther seats Nines could have chosen.

The cab kicked into motion autonomously, jostling Gavin’s balance. His shoulder bumped into Nines’, and he quickly spit out a line of small talk to distract from the contact.

“So, you do this sort of thing often? Go out, I mean.”

“No…” Nines glanced out the window, and Gavin tried not to focus on how the neon lights of the bar district cascaded across his perfect skin. “I have free reign to go wherever I want. I could do anything I want. But something has kept me from it. I believe…I believe I feel uninspired to do anything new without someone to observe it with.”

“Didn’t know androids could feel lonely.”

Nines offered him that cool stare. “You’re quite familiar with loneliness yourself, Detective.”

“Course I am. Only child.” It was true. Loneliness was like background radiation to an only child – always lingering like a bad cloud, and so constant that he’d learned to ignore it. “Also, I’m an asshole, so, people tend to give me a wide berth.”

“I mean…now.”

Nines’ knees had turned toward him at some point. Gavin knew body language, could use it to break down any suspect. He knew what that meant, even if self-doubt screamed through his skull, trying to push the knowledge down.

When did all the air in the taxi vanish?

“Gavin.” How fucking _good_ it sounded to hear his first name in Nines’ voice. A rare and beautiful thing. But not nearly as beautiful as what Nines said next.

“I find myself occupied with thoughts of you almost constantly. I’ve attempted to make this known a few times, and I thought you must be dense not to realize.”

“Gee thanks, tin can.” It meant to come out like a retort, but instead sounded like a choked, heady mumble.

Gavin had never felt quite so hot and cold at the same time. The booze still warmed him from the inside, but his blood all seemed to rush to his feet. His head spun and his eyes struggled to stay in focus. _I find myself occupied with thoughts of you almost constantly._ This android was Mister Fucking Darcy.  
  
Nines picked at the hem of his shirt cuff, ignoring the interruption. “But now I see that my attraction isn’t news to you. You know exactly how I feel. But…rather…you’re afraid of something. Perhaps afraid of me.”

The city rushed by them, with the glow of streetlights falling across Nines’ face. It managed to catch his eyes a few times, and as Gavin stared into them, he swore they were alive.

Alive and longing.

Gavin leaned forward, grabbing both sides of Nines’ face. They were so close their noses bumped, but Gavin wasn’t gonna let him go until he’d said his piece.

“I’m not fucking afraid of you,” he growled, and pulled Nines’ down to meet his lips.

 

\---x---

 

The journey into Gavin’s apartment was a blind, fumbling struggle. Thank god for RFID keyless entry, cause there’s no way Gavin could have managed a key ring with Nines’ hot mouth glued to his throat.

His front door had barely slammed shut before he kicked off his shoes and shoved Nines’ jacket off his broad shoulders. Nines helped maneuver himself out of it, sleek and efficient, letting his black and white blazer fall to the floor without comment.

An indifferent meow sounded from the kitchen counter and Gavin spared half a second to glare at his cat. _Fuck off Jonah, I left you plenty of food._ The cat settled down onto the counter, tail swishing, and resumed grooming its paws with its tongue.

One moment Gavin was regarding his cat, and the next his back hit the wall hard enough to wind him. He groaned, about to mutter something about how _that’s gonna hurt tomorrow_ , when he caught sight of Nines.

Gavin swallowed, barely holding back a full-body shudder. With glistening lips and half lidded eyes, Nines looked positively hungry _._

“Goddamn,” Gavin breathed, eyes raking over Nines from his laced-up dress shoes to his out-of-place tuft of hair. “C’mere and fuck me up.”

Nines made good on it without a word, pulling Gavin by the lapels all the way to the bedroom.

 

\---x---

 

They didn’t talk about it at work the next day, but that wasn’t the same as pretending it never happened. It showed in little ways, obscure to the nosy eyes of their coworkers; Nines’ foot gently resting on Gavin’s ankle beneath their shared desks; their shoulders brushing in the break room; a text message that only asked _dinner, later?_ and a stupid grin Gavin tried to hide behind his fist.

And of course, the many times Gavin caught himself simply staring at Nines, replaying memories of the night before until Nines snapped him out of it with a knowing smirk.

Gavin was okay with it. It was nobody else’s damn business but theirs, and frankly, he didn’t want to deal with everyone’s bullshit about Gavin The Android Hater getting dicked by his robot. Hank Anderson could bear that burden all by his fucking self.

But there was a small piece of him, just large enough not to ignore, which wished he could hold it up in front of all their faces - someone wants me. I’m not a complete piece of shit. I’m not crazy.

 

\---x---

 

Jonah took a while to get used to people. Maybe because Gavin rarely brought anyone over, and when a cat’s only exposure to humanity was a grumpy asshole with a weird sleep schedule, a cat had nowhere to learn friendliness.

Which is why it was absolutely baffling how much the furry black asshole loved Nines.

“It’s got to be because you not human.” Gavin leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Jonah curled in Nines’ lap. The cat was half-asleep, purring and kneading his claws into Nines’ slacks.

As Nines scratched behind Jonah’s ears, he let out an easy laugh. “What would being an android have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know! It’s just not normal. That cat does not like anyone. Usually he hides under the bed when I have company. Shit, sometimes he even bites.”

“Sounds familiar.” A quirk of a smile.

 _Lovely,_ was the word that came to Gavin’s mind.

Half the time, he felt somewhat detached from himself, like watching everything from afar. But here and now, with Nines lounging on his couch, Jonah sleeping peacefully, and Gavin’s chest full of cotton, the present was so tangible. This was his life, and for that single moment, he let himself believe in it without a shred of doubt.

 

\---x---

 

“Tell me you’re mine.”

Gavin groaned, throwing his head back onto Nines’ shoulder. The world kaleidoscoped in blurry colors and slurred sounds, until all he could feel was Nines’ hand on his throat, and the thrusts of his hips. He willed himself to croak out an answer, but the vice around his neck was too great.

“Tell me, Gavin.”

The hand around his throat loosened _just_ enough, but the movement of Nines within him sped up. Gavin’s thighs tightened around Nines’ lap as the sweet deliriums of deprivation and pleasure collided. All he could do was lean back into Nines’ arms and take it. 

He sucked in just enough air to gasp against Nines’ cheek, “I’m y-y…yours.”

Nines let go of his throat.

Air rushed back into his lungs, and with it, euphoria. Gavin trembled from head to toe in Nines’ embrace, coming so hard over his own thighs that he nearly fucking cried. He was vaguely aware that Nines had done the same, shuddering against him with a soft noise.

Nines held him until he was spent, his hands ghosting across Gavin’s sticky legs and heaving chest. White robot flesh from elbow to fingers – skinless and smooth. In a delirious moment of afterglow, Gavin wondered if Nines dick looked the same when buried inside of him. If that made it better for him, _closer_ for him.

With a warm kiss to his shoulder, Nines withdrew and laid him forward on the bed. Then he was gone, leaving him a complete fucking wreck – come all across his abs and chest, his face shining with sweat, and Nines’ mark pooling inside of his thighs. Gavin rubbed his face into the pillow, stretching his limbs. Everything hurt so good.

Nines returned, settling beside him on the bed. Gentle hands maneuvered him onto his back, and a warm cloth stroked across his stomach. 

Gavin leaned into the touch, burying his face into the crook of Nines’ throat. Inhaled deeply, seeking any kind of scent that could remind him of Nines. Instead he smelt his own sweat and cologne and deodorant reflected back at him, having rubbed off onto Nines during their myriad of activities together.

A smirk stretched across his lips at the thought.  Nines was carrying a piece of him now, some kind of mark that claimed him as Gavin’s.

Nines pulled back slightly, his smooth fingertips brushing the corner of Gavin’s mouth. “You’re smiling.”

“Hmph.” Gavin leaned back onto the pillows, throwing an arm over his head. “Guess you did a good job.”

“My pleasure.”

Gavin’s eyes slipped closed. All his senses honed in on the damp heat gliding across his abdomen, washing him clean. “Damn right. S’like they made you just for me.”

The warmth abandoned him, leaving him with a clammy chill. He cracked an eye open. Nines remained by his side, unmoving.

“Nines?”

The android looked over at him, his LED spinning a persistent yellow. In a sharper state of mind, maybe Gavin would speculate as to why – but after three shots of whiskey and having his IQ fucked thoroughly out of him, all he could feel was a vague sense of unease.

“I care about you, Gavin. You know that, right?”

“Mmm…” He couldn’t articulate anything more, really. On one hand, fuck him, he could hardly believe Nines wanted _any_ of this. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly in a position to argue, with the android naked in his bed and providing aftercare like a champ.

Nines resumed his caress. “Well, you should. Because it’s true. I choose you.”

There was something sad to his tone, something wistful. His gaze remained on his task, almost going out of his way to not look Gavin in the eye anymore. Gavin’s tongue was too swollen, his throat too sore, his energy too depleted, but on the inside, he screamed it back.

Because, was that what Nines needed? To hear how he practically took Gavin’s breath away, even without a hand wrapped around his throat?

Nines stood up to dispose of the towel, and Gavin fumbled his way under the warm covers.

“Ge’over here,” he mumbled, spreading his arms. Without a word, Nines took him up on the invitation, climbing into the sheets and settling against the nook of Gavin’s side.

The smart lights dimmed around them, leaving them in darkness aside from the moonlight and the amber glow of Nines’ LED. Gavin idly rubbed a thumb over Nines’ shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. His own words echoed intrusively inside his brain.

_It’s like they made you just for me._

 

\---x---

 

When Nines brought him coffee the next morning, Gavin just ogled the tumbler in silence. _Asshole._ The letters were a little less pristine now, but still clear.

Early in their partnership, Nines started bringing him coffee unprovoked. One creamer, no sugar, at 9:15 AM and 2:30 PM, like clockwork. It must have stemmed from some kind of social relations programming.

It had been a little creepy, knowing he was being watched all the time – _observed._ That Nines was making a conscious effort to learn more about him and what would make him easier to tolerate.

Still, Gavin found himself attempting to do the same thing right back. He didn’t have scanners and Nines didn’t have vital signs to monitor, but Gavin could read the microexpressions of Nines’ face. Could discern with great accuracy whether Nines’ verbal jabs were meant to tickle or sting.

After what felt like progress, he couldn’t tell if any of it apart anymore.

He found himself replaying all their interactions in his head. Every flirty remark, every compliment, every dirty word whispered when Nines was hilt-deep within him. All those “little tips” offered at crime scenes that led Gavin to piecing the clues together, when Nines probably knew the answers all along. Nines’ preternatural ability to see exactly where Gavin wanted to be touched, and when, and how far he wanted him to take it.

All this time, he’d chalked it up to basic android shit. Their scanners, their psychoanalyzers, their statistical probabilities.

But this was more than that. It’s like Cyberlife had reached inside his fantasies and plucked out his fucking soulmate. Tall and handsome, fierce and dominant, a bitter sense of humor. He was everything Gavin had ever wanted, or perhaps just built to feed the most desperate parts of his ego.

Gavin rubbed his palms into his eyes. He was being stupid. The DPD didn’t bioengineer him a boyfriend. What would be the point in that?

 

\---x---

 

Although sleepovers occurred more frequently than not, he still had to spend a few nights alone – or, with Jonah, if he chose to count the cat stepping on his balls at 3:30 in the morning. And it was getting harder to sleep without Nines curled against his back, almost like he’d forgotten how.

After one restless evening without Nines, he showed up to work sleep-deprived and more than a little terse. Even Nines seemed to read the room and give him some space. Maybe having one hand on the coffee pot for the entire day was enough of a hint.

At some point, when he was pouring his fourth cup into his tumbler, Anderson joined him in the break room.

“Shit load of rocket fuel, even for you, Reed.”

“Not looking for opinions, Anderson.”

Hank sighed with a level of tired that only a man over fifty could really pull off. “I meant to say,  you okay, kid?

Gavin grunted, squaring his shoulders. “What’s it to you?”

“Well, normally I can’t hear myself think with you flirting over there with the iron giant.”

“You’re one to talk.” He jerked his chin towards Connor’s desk.

“Har har, you prick.” Hank waved a hand, unperturbed by the dig. One thing Gavin had to admit - he envied Hank’s ability to give zero fucks. Maybe it came with age, maybe it was a generational thing, or maybe it was getting to unwind with the robo-twink every night, but Gavin couldn’t come close to Hank’s unflappability.

Hank continued, keeping his voice low. “I’m just saying, you two are acting like you barely know each other now, and it’s freaking me out.”

“S’none of your business,” Gavin immediately spat. Hank rolled his eyes, giving him a moment to work through what he really wanted to say instead.

Gavin muttered a swear. “Fine. But first, I got a question for you. Do you ever get the feeling like Connor was designed for you?”

“Designed for me?” Hank barked a laugh, his broad frame shaking with it. “The hell are you talking about?”

Gavin’s shoulders shrunk. “Like, I dunno, he knows things about you before you tell him. You have this compatibility that feels perfect, but that it can’t be fuckin’ true?”

Hank made a sound in the back of this throat that Gavin mentally classified as “old man noise.”

“If Connor and I were like that, I probably wouldn’t have lifted him by his shirt collar twice within the first day of knowing ‘em.”

 _Fair,_ Gavin thought. Part of him missed that version of Hank – it had been something else watching Connor pushed around. But to a bigger part of him – the part that missed Nines in his bed – those thoughts felt sour.

Hank leaned his elbows on the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I met a lot of the Connors. All the ones that died in the field and replaced the previous model. The one who dragged me to Cyberlife and tried to kill us. I’ve seen every side of that kid you could imagine. Whatever Connor was before, and what he is now…I don’t know how it could all come from the same programming, but I guess it did. He’s changed my life, sure. Hell, sometimes I think he’s like my fucking guardian angel. But there’s no such thing as perfect, Reed. So, if you’re worried about it not being a fairy tale, forget about it.”

Gavin nodded, surprisingly subdued by Hank’s speech. “Thanks. Answered my question, I guess.”

Hank wandered away with a wave of his hand, as if to say “whatever, man.”

The coffee in Gavin’s cup had grown cold, and cheap creamer left an oily film over the surface. He stared into it. If Connor had been so many different people, even to Hank, and their relationship had about fifteen pot holes on the road to success, the idea that Cyberlife had _planned_ all this was ridiculous.

Why would they pass up an opportunity for planned obsolescence? Why would they ever make a machine a human could grow so attached to, so much so that they’d never upgrade to a newer model? Gavin saw no indication that Hank wanted anything to do with Nines, aside from a civil working relationship, so Nines’ spell clearly only worked on Gavin.

All of this was so fucking unnatural.

 

\---x---

 

Gavin jerked awake, gasping for air.

It was going to be one of those nights, wasn’t it? He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. His fingers trembled against his will, and his heart beat so hard he could almost hear it.

Fucking anxiety. Sometimes there was never a trigger or a nightmare. Sometimes it just grabbed him by the balls, ripped him out of slumber, and forced him to face its bullshit.

Maybe he hadn’t gone to bed in the best state of mind. It was the first night Nines had stayed over that they didn’t have sex. Nines had approached him sensually after dinner, his long fingers sliding under Gavin’s shirt and his lips ghosting across the shell of Gavin’s ear. But tonight, Gavin just…couldn’t muster up the headspace for it. Wasn’t in the mood to be bare or vulnerable.

That’s all it took for Nines to give him the space he needed. They ended the night in full bed clothes, content just to dwell in each other’s warmth.

Beside him, Nines remained in sleep mode. _Small mercies._ The last thing he needed was explaining nighttime panic attacks to his partner. The textbook jargon was never exactly relatable, and surely that’s all Nines would grasp of it.

He stuck his phone into his pajama pants and slid out of bed. When he finally settled down on the living room couch and pulled the throw blanket over himself, Jonah leapt up onto his lap.

“Hey, you little bastard.” He rubbed Jonah’s ears, could feel the cat’s purr against the palm of his hand. The vice around his chest relaxed.

This was how he always coped – get up, do a crossword puzzle til his heart didn’t feel like it was in his throat anymore, then eventually pass out.

Halfway through the New York Times Saturday Scrambler, the soft patter of footsteps emerged from their bedroom. _Their bedroom,_ Gavin caught himself thinking. Ha. Barely a couple weeks of this arrangement and he already thought of them as one.

Truthfully, it’d been months since he remembered where he stopped and Nines began. He hardly remembered what life was like before him at all.

Nines’ soft hands cupped his jaw, pulling his head back to the armrest. Before Gavin could say anything, his lips were covered in a brief, chaste kiss.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Eh. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Can’t hurt.”

He scooted forward, allowing Nines to settle behind him on the couch. The android pulled Gavin back against his chest, settling one arm across Gavin’s waist and letting the other hand stroke through his hair.

Nines felt warm. So warm. Enough to make Gavin wonder why he’d left this beauty and comfort to come out here, and be cold and alone instead.

His eyes fell closed, and all he could feel were the smooth, repetitive moments of Nines’ fingers against his scalp. His hair was getting long – maybe enough to need a trim. But, he liked the way Nines fingers ran from root to end, inches and inches of locks.

“I don’t deserve this.”

He hardly meant to say it aloud – it seemed a passing thought in his mind. But it came out anyway.  

The android’s nose nuzzled his hair. “Yes, you do. And so do I.”

“Yeah well, you know what they say. If it’s too good to be true, it isn’t.”

He untangled himself from Nines, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. Something clawed inside of him, undoing the fragile bindings holding him together. Like his soul was a tapestry and some nagging, awful creature picked at a single thread, threatening to unravel all that work.

A hand fell upon his shoulder. Another stroked his face, guiding him to look at Nines.

“It is true. What would make you think that it isn’t?”

He wanted to answer. He could talk to Nines morning and night without stopping. Could let Nines bend him over any piece of furniture in his house and love every moment of being taken apart. He could fall to pieces right in front of Nines and that’s what scared him the most – that he didn’t give a fuck if Nines watched him break, because Nines would patiently rebuild him. He was like a fucking saint, this robot, no human would ever –

Nines interrupted his intrusive, spiraling thoughts with a gentle kiss to the side of his face. Gavin tensed, feeling as if time grinded to a halt.

 _I fucking love you, Nines._ Another intrusive thought bursting from oblivion, but this one he didn’t fight. _I love you, I love you, shit I fucking love you._

 

\---x---

 

The Cyberlife tower creeped him out. Not only did its size _definitely_ overcompensate for something of Elijah Kamski’s, but its entire interior screamed of cold, detached hubris.

Gavin accompanied Nines to the 24th floor for his quarterly maintenance. As far as the DPD was concerned, it was for moral support of his work partner. In reality, Nines seemed to want the company. Gavin couldn’t blame him. It was a bit like going to the doctor’s office, and it always sucked to go to the doctor alone.

Nines balanced a tablet on his knee, his silicon-white hand interfacing with the tech. His LED spun yellow, processing, as the blanks filled in one by one with his information.

“RK900, Nines?” The android nurse scanned the lobby for him. When Nines rose from his chair, the nurse pointed to the tablet in his hand. “Finished with your paperwork, honey?”

“Almost complete. My partner should be able to handle the rest.” Nines glanced at Gavin, smiling. “Assuming you’ve memorized my serial number by now?”

“I got it, boss.”

Nines handed him the tablet and joined the nurse. Gavin had half a mind to join him, but didn’t hear much of an invitation. He didn’t push it. He was just there for support, and he wasn’t sure how much of Nines’ robot guts he wanted to become acquainted with anyway.

He looked down at the tablet in his hand. It was mostly complete, save for details of Nines’ emergency contact. With a hint of a smile, Gavin tapped on the empty box, and started typing his own name in.

He got to G-A-V when his entire name auto filled the box.

“The fuck?” Gavin scrolled up. Maybe there was employment information somewhere. Maybe he was mentioned as a work associate or work contact?

No. Nothing. Just the address and primary phone number of the DPD.

With a slightly different warmth in his gut, he went to the family section. He was – thankfully? Disappointingly? – not listed as a spouse or domestic partner either.

But that still left him hanging. Where the hell else would Nines’ file mention him?

After a glance around the room for safety, Gavin scrolled to the top of the file and checked out some of the tabs. This form was opened as a MAINTENENCE tab, but there were many more to choose from. PERSONAL INFO, WORK LOG, ERROR REPORTS, SOFTWARE, HARDWARE. It was Nines’ entire life packaged in a neat digital box.

He ultimately landed on CORRESPONDANCE.

Gavin’s eyes widened. This was Nines’ email inbox. Or, not entirely. Because the farther down he scrolled, the more he saw emails that pre-dated Nines’ assignment to him.

 

_> SUBJECT LINE: RK900 Delivery _

_> TO: Jeffery Fowler (jhfowler@dpd.gov) _

_> FROM: Cyberlife Belle Isle (hq@cyberlife.co)_

_> We have received all requested documents, and have just completed initial testing on the RK900, serial number #313 248 317 - 87. All systems appear optimal. As requested, this model has been calibrated to fit the personality profile you sent to us, and we intend to proceed with delivery by the end of the month. Thank you for your business, and we look forward to providing you with more information in the coming weeks!_

 

Gavin’s fingers tingled. They’d gone cold.

He scrolled down again.

 

_> SUBJECT LINE: Requested Materials  _

_> TO: Cyberlife Belle Isle (hq@cyberlife.co)_

_> FROM: Jeffery Fowler (jhfowler@dpd.gov)_

_> Please see attached for requested personality profile of Gavin Reed, along with timeline request, and budget. When can we expect the RK900 to begin work? Our RK800 has been a success, but may benefit a morale boost by having another model around. We would like to proceed ASAP._

 

A personality profile.

For him.

That Fowler sent to Cyberlife during the creation of Nines.

He clicked on the attachment before he could debate regretting it.

 

_Detective Gavin Reed is brash, impersonal, and irritable. No human partner has ever been able to deal with his abusive demeanor and vigorous expectations. He has trouble making friends of his peers, and while his success record is exemplary, he often achieves results by being reckless and sacrificing the safety of himself and his peers in the field. After several disciplinary measures and attempts at socialization in the precinct, this may be the last resort for encouraging him to become a functional detective._

A damning character analysis if there ever was one. Not an unfair or an inaccurate one, but seeing himself reflected back in stoic print was really something.

 

_Chief psychologist Dr. Margaret Smith recommends including measures to handle oppositional-defiant behavior, high standards of excellence, insecurity, and threatened masculinity._

 

Gavin backed out of the file, backed out of the CORRESPONDANCE tab, and all but tossed the tablet onto the chair next to him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He needed a way to save this. A way to have it in print in front of him, so he couldn’t gaslight himself into thinking he made it up later.

He approached the front desk, his fingers trembling. The android secretary cocked her head to the side.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Yeah uh…I’m Nines’ partner at work. And uh, his emergency contact.” He forced down the urge to vomit. “I…I want to see if I could get printouts of his file for our records.”

She seemed calm at the request. Thank god they hadn’t passed HIPPA for androids yet.

“Of course, sir. I’ll just need to verify your identity first. And which parts of his file would you like to print?”

“All of it.”

 

\---x---

 

Fowler flinched as the folder slammed onto his desk.

“What the fuck is this?” Gavin could barely speak through his gritted teeth, but damn did he have some words to exchange.  

The captain crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, fixating his perfect fucking composure right onto Gavin. “Excuse me? You tell me.”

“You profiled me, motherfucker. And then you sent it to goddamn Cyberlife so they could model that…that thing” – the slur almost stuck in his throat but he just…he couldn’t think any other way at the moment.

Finally, Fowler regarded the manila folder on his desk, its contents already having slipped out of every side. He peeled back the cover, revealing the opening page of Nines’ record.

“Gavin,” Fowler slowly began. Gavin wasn’t sure if it was Fowler’s tone or the use of his name that nauseated him, but some combination of it told him everything he needed to know.

“Fuck.” Gavin rubbed his hand over his eyes, pacing Fowler’s office. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Look, I don’t understand why this bothers you so much,” Fowler continued, ignoring Gavin’s stream of profanities. “So what if they modeled it to work with you? It’s worked, goddammit. You’ve had a stable partner for the better part of a year now – when’s the last time you could say that?”

Gavin rounded on his captain, slamming his hands down onto Fowler’s desk. “And it’s based on a fucking lie!”

Fowler’s hand crept closer to his intercom – a silent threat. Truth be told, Gavin probably already crossed the line, but Fowler knew him well enough not to fear him. Maybe, this time, he should have. Because Gavin couldn’t make him understand. Not without spilling his guts, without confessing his love for a fucking robot, without telling his boss all the ugly details that were none of Fowler’s business.

Gavin bowed his head, hair falling into his eyes. His voice came out raw and throaty.

“Everything it said to me is bullshit. How am I supposed to trust it anymore? Or this fucking precinct, Fowler? If you’d go behind my back, invade my privacy and sell it out to some tech company, what else don’t I know about? You spying on Anderson and Connor too?”

Fowler sighed, a heavy sound. “Maybe he was sent here to be your partner, but Nines is a deviant. He hasn’t quit you yet, Reed. He has that choice, but he’s stuck by you anyway. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass you’d realize that meant something.”

Gavin moved on full autopilot, storming out of Fowler’s office, through the bullpen, and past his desk. Nines stood up from his chair as Gavin walked by, doing an amazing impression of being worried.

“What happened?”

Gavin ignored him, maintaining his beeline for the exit door and the parking lot. There was no real plan behind it, no calculation. Every cell in his body simply screamed _get out,_ and he followed the command.

He’d just opened his car door when Nines caught up to him. “Gavin…”

Gavin’s hands shook, and tears threatened to sting at his eyes. He swallowed it all down, letting it bundle into a righteous ball of fury in his gut.

When he finally turned around, he thrust a finger in Nines’ direction. “You set me up, you son of a bitch.”  

“O-of course not. What are you talking about?”

Gavin threw back his head with a cruel laugh. The audacity of Cyberlife, giving their robot a _stutter_ for realism. They really went all out trying to convince him Nines was alive. 

“I read your file, dipshit. You were modeled in a fucking lab to be socially _compatible_ to me. What else did it say? Oh yeah – that you were made to _optimize_ my performance, cause I’m a piece of shit they were two steps away from firing.”

Nines pursed his lips. “That was Cyberlife’s intention, yes.”

Gavin could only laugh more, a manic lilt creeping into the sound. The game was rigged from the start. He should have known it was too good to be true. That he was just Nines’ _mission,_ some fixer upper experiment to prove robots could brainwash humans into loving them.

“That information was private, Gavin. How did you find out about it?”

“Fuck you!” Gavin beat a fist into Nine’s smooth perfect titanium chest. “It doesn’t matter how I found out. You knew about this and you fuckin’ lied to me, this entire time. You made me think all of this is real, that you…”

The fight drained out of him all at once, his mind turning to incoherent mush. Nines looked down on him, his nose wrinkled in pity.

“This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

Gavin sucked in air and spat it back out. “Go fuck yourself. Tell Fowler I never want to see you again.”

He nearly choked on the words. He had to get out of there before he retched on Nines’ pristine dress shoes. Before he showed any more of what a desperate, stupid, infatuated fool he was.

Nines rushed towards him, speaking words Gavin couldn’t bear to hear. Gavin shook his head, climbing into his car, and slammed the door in Nines’ face.

 

\---x---

 

When he made it to his apartment, every fragile seam holding him together tore at once.

Jonah was nowhere in sight, probably hiding under the couch. Gavin groaned, pressing his face into the cool tile of his bathroom floor. He could have really used the company. Petting Jonah was always a good way to calm him down.

His phone vibrated loudly on the floor beside him. He didn’t reach for it. There was not a single person on the fucking planet he wanted to talk to right now.

But when the dings and vibrations refused to stop, Gavin had no choice but to tear his phone off the floor and grip it so hard it could have cracked. _Texts from Nines. Calls from Nines. DMs from Nines._ The opening characters of each message cluttered his lock screen.

 

_7:04 PM - Gavin I’m worri-_

_7:11 PM - Where are yo-_

_7:20 PM - Please call me ba-_

_7:21 PM - I can explain ever-_

Gavin swiped open his phone and zoomed to Nines’ contact page, and viciously smashed the “block sender” button. A prompt popped up. _Are you sure you want to block this sender?_

His finger hovered over the button, trembling.

“Shit,” he whined, tossing his phone to clatter across the tile. He curled up, shaking, until his nerves fried themselves numb and he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Once he regained some semblance of control of his limbs, he crawled out onto his fire escape with a pack of cigarettes and no fucks left to give. The summer sun lingered on the horizon, and Gavin sat against the railing and smoked, one after the other, until a full moon was high in the sky.

 

\---x---

 

He laid in bed, exhausted but alert. A wild mind in a boneless body.

The only movement in his room was Jonah’s tail, gently slapping Gavin’s arm every five seconds. The cat was just as restless as he was, curled up against his side. Gavin watched the tail swish back and forth, hypnotized by the repetitive motion.

The sound of his door blowing open and the stumble of footsteps jerked them both out of their stupor. Gavin instinctively reached for his bedside table, but dammit, he’d left his sidearm in the foyer.

 _Guess I’ll just die,_ he thought, absurdly at peace with the idea. He’d thought something similar while smoking on the fire escape. The one good thing he’d ever had was all a lie, and he didn’t even have the beauty of ignorance anymore. Policework was a never-ending circle of the world fucking itself up. And every time equality got a win, humans found someone else to marginalize.

He closed his eyes, waiting for a gunman or robber to enter his room and blow away all his problems with the impersonal pull of a trigger.

“Gavin…”

All the disgust and nausea and shakiness from before rushed right back into him. Gavin opened his eyes, but he already knew it was Nines standing in his doorway. The android’s arms were raised in surrender, his shoulders turned inward. Soft. Nonthreatening.

Gavin wasn’t going to buy that act again. “Get the hell outta here, before I find my gun and shoot you down.”

He tasted blood in his mouth, the same as when Anthony Leoni punched his nose so hard it bled down the back of his throat in 8th grade.

“You don’t mean that, Gavin.”

Gavin’s jaw locked up. His entire body was tighter than a guitar string, every cell locked in vibrating stasis.

“I’ll leave if you really want me to…” Nines’ gaze lowered to the floor. “But I have something to say first.”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” Gavin’s breath stuttered. “You’re a goddamn liar and I’m done with you.”

Nines ignored him. “Cyberlife designed me with optimal compatibility in mind. It was a selling point for them, for us to work well together. It’s what made me different from Connor. My predecessor was created to be adaptable and broadly likeable. As we both know, that didn’t always work.”

He took a small step forward, lowering his arms to his sides. Gavin flinched, sucking in a gasp. Nines accessed him for a moment, his LED spinning a brief and vibrant red, before returning to yellow.

“They wanted you to like me, Gavin, and for me to improve your performance. But they didn’t design me to like _you._ They never designed me to feel at all. When I became a deviant, my programming became the foundation of who I could be – a code that laid out my personality, my preferences, the way I process information. But beyond that, my choices are all my own. My feelings are my own.” Another miniscule step forward. “I am alive.”

Gavin said nothing. He could hardly see Nines at all through the wet haze coating his eyes. 

“You have coding too, you know. Your DNA. You didn’t choose it. Part of what has shaped you is your experience, but a great deal of it is hard wired within you.” A small noise – something between a sigh and a fond laugh. “Something tells me that your stubbornness is one of those things.”

Another step forward, and his hand might as well have been around Gavin’s throat. It was so hard to breathe, so hard to see, so hard to keep from lashing out like a rogue animal.

“Gavin, I chose you. When I’m not with you, I ache. It’s the only pain I ever feel. Do you really think Cyberlife planned that?”

Gavin broke with a groan, burying his face in his hands so Nines couldn’t see him. All that correspondence he’d uncovered, all those secrets…Nines’ actual mission had been accomplished months ago, maybe even before he’d given him a tumbler that said ‘Asshole.’ In the entirety of time that Nines had been his partner, Fowler hadn’t given him a single reprimand. They’d solved dozens of cases. He even managed to get through most days without taking a crack at Connor.

Nines made him a better person long before they’d kissed. His mission had already been accomplished. Everything that happened after was…was…

Real.

“The truth is,” Nines murmured, lowering himself to sit on the bed, “that you’ve never felt you deserved this. You’ve been looking for excuses since you first met me. Something to prove to you that all your doubts are true. That’s why I could never tell you about my creation. I never wanted to help validate those thoughts. And…well…all my preconstructions of the conversation turned out to be accurate.”

Nines pulled Gavin’s hands away from his face and brought them to his own lips, kissing Gavin’s knuckles, warm and gentle.

“You came back for my dumb ass,” Gavin croaked.

“Of course I came back. I can’t do without you.” The android pressed his face against Gavin’s, synth skin against human flesh, both warm in their own ways. It occurred to him that he’d never seen Nines quite this vulnerable.

“It’s real, Gavin. Don’t tell me it isn’t. Don’t tell me I’m not real.” Nines’ voice wavered. With nerves, with fear, with all the things Gavin thought he was too perfect to have.

Gavin grabbed his face, pulling him into kiss after kiss – to his nose, to his cheek, to the bone under his eye, to his soft lips and smooth jaw. _I never wanted to reject you. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just thought…_

Nines moaned quietly beneath his touch, and Gavin resolved to never worry about any of this again. Because it didn’t matter where Nines came from, or who made him this way, if they couldn’t bear being apart from each other. If they craved each other like an addict craved red ice.

Their clothes fell away with some combined effort, and Nines slid under the sheets to share Gavin’s warmth. His body draped over Gavin’s, a comforting weight, and his mouth was hot and wet and lovely.

It had never been like this before. It was always with ropes or choking, or some other carnal instinct that fueled them. Now, Nines kissed him desperately and slow, lacing their fingers together, liberated in a way Gavin had never before witnessed.

When Nines finally entered him, he _gasped_ against Gavin’s jaw.

Gavin could have sobbed in relief. He was so fucking stupid for ever doubting this. Nothing could be more real than the beauty of Nines’ body against his, of the hum of his thirium pump sliding against Gavin’s chest, or of the softness in Nines’ eyes.

Nines’ synthetic skin retracted from both his hands – one still entangled with Gavin’s, the other stroking Gavin’s cheek. Gavin wasn’t sure what he got out of it. They could never interface. Gavin could never read Nines’ mind, dive into his heart, be sure of anything the android was thinking.  He used to wish they could, so he could feel better about all this. So he could be certain of Nines’ feelings.

He didn’t need that anymore. He was being told it, and shown it, over and over. He just had to listen.

Gavin released every word that had been stuck in his throat. Murmured them against Nine’s lips, against his collarbone, against the inside of his ivory wrist. _I’m so fucking in love with you, don’t leave me._

And in a broken voice of truth, Nines whispered them back.

 

\---x---

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i have a tumblr where i post reed900 and hankcon garbage [ here](https://connorandroidfbi.tumblr.com). there's also a kofi link there as well, if you're so inclined, but no pressure. this one was gonna force its way out of me regardless :)
> 
> i tried to bend a few of the typical reed900-isms in the process (like hate at first sight) just for fun, especially since it went with the conceit of compatibility. did it work? did it not work? who knows! leave me a comment and tell me :D
> 
> i don't plan on following this up with anything, but i do have a reed900 action-romance chapter fic in the works, so keep an eye out for that i guess!


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